


if you were hoping to raise a crook, you should be very proud.

by animaAdministrator



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bad Parenting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animaAdministrator/pseuds/animaAdministrator
Summary: Akira gets a phone call on a rainy night. It's his father.





	1. part i

“I haven’t done _anything_ , Dad.”

Akira was lying on his bed above the Leblanc storefront, scratching Morgana’s ears a bit more forcefully than he intended to. His eyes were staring on the falling rain outside the window, but he wasn’t watching it, not really. That just happened to be the spot his glazed-over expression rested when his father had called. Speaking with the man was always an… ordeal, and being physically separated didn’t change that at all; he’d set the Imperial March from Star Wars as a ringtone specific to Kurusu the Elder for a reason. It wasn’t just a joke about how Akira viewed him; it was a warning, an opportunity for Akira to mentally prepare himself, so he didn’t just pick up the phone and get punched in the face with that asshole’s voice.

“No, I’m not lying!” Akira sounded deeply indignant. He was, of course, lying, because becoming a Phantom Thief definitely counted as _something_. “I swear I haven’t done anything! If you don’t trust me, just ask Boss— _Sakura-san_ , whatever—” He spat out the word like it was a curse. “Ask him and he’ll tell you the same damn thing!”

_“Don’t take that tone with me—“_

Click.

That was it. His patience was all dried up. Call over.

Akira actually cursed this time, under his breath, and dropped the phone unceremoniously on the bed beside him.

Morgana had stopped purring, he noticed; before the phone rang, he had been purring. The not-cat wanted to say something, Akira could tell, and he didn’t feel like waiting in that awkward limbo of silence right now. “What?”

“Noth… no, that’s not true.” Morgana’s ears drooped. The small creature rolled over on the bed, cuddling up close to Akira and (as he probably intended) looking him straight in the eyes. Sometimes the feline features were hard to read, but the concern on his face was clear. “Was that your dad?”

“Yeah,” Akira grunted, a scowl etched onto his features. “You can tell ‘cause I said the word ‘Dad’ like fifteen times.”

“Excuse me for being worried, you jerk.” Morgana unsheathed his front claws directly in Akira’s abdomen; it wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it still hurt. “I heard what he was saying— why do you let him talk about you like that? The Joker I know would never tolerate such disrespect!” 

“Morgana, I’m not in the mood—”

“No, I’m serious!” the not-cat continued, swatting him lightly (with claws sheathed this time). “He was talking to you like you’re some sort of criminal!”

“I _am_ some sort of criminal,” Akira replied darkly. 

“No you’re not!”

“I am as far as he’s concerned.” Morgana could almost smell the venom dripping from his words. “…You know the thing back home that got me sent here in the first place? He still thinks I did it.”

The not-cat’s fur fluffed up in alarm. “Buh…!”

“Yeah.” Akira rolled over, and pulled the covers over his face. “That’s what I said.”


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt, related to the first.

The last time Akira ever saw her, Mama cried. He didn’t know when it was, or where, though he thought he recalled feeling like they were in a cell with no bars — all he remembered was that Mama cried. That stuck in his head because Mama _never_ cried; she had always been his pillar of strength and kindness, in a tiny child’s world where strength and kindness were otherwise hard to come by. Whenever things got bad, she protected him. As far as young Akira was concerned, his mother was the embodiment of everything good and pure in the world.

The last time he saw her, she cried. She kept apologizing and showering him in kisses and telling him how much she loved him, and she was so sorry, and she’s come back for him as soon as she could. Akira cried too, because he didn’t understand why she was saying such awful things. He was too young for the words ‘divorce’ and ‘custody’ to mean anything to him; the reality of why she had to leave, likewise, fell on uncomprehending ears.

For the first couple of years he was mad at her. He still didn’t understand what had happened — he trusted her, and then one day she was gone like a phantom. If she had ever really cared, she would have stayed.

Later, he grew up and realized who he really should have been mad at: the judge who somehow got it in his head that his scumbag father was a better guardian for Akira Kurusu than her. He realized why, too. Though they lived in a small town, his father was well-respected among the populace, a member of the city council. Akira’s last name commanded attention back at home because it was a tether to the other Kurusu, the _well-respected community leader_ Kurusu. It was built on deception and lies, of course, because the reach of corruption was all-consuming — there was no way that his mother could have won against someone like that. She had to leave, because he would only ruin her life further if she stayed.

(The day Akira realized that was also the day he learned to stop getting upset, and start getting _angry_.)

And the promises that she’d return someday, sweep him onto her white horse and they would ride off into the sunset together; they were only daydreams, he knew, fantasies that were only possible on the television screen. Not in real life. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up on her, because that still felt like its own sort of betrayal somehow.

And besides. When Akira looked down at himself, all grown up, wearing a black-and-white mask and a leather coat and packing ten different knives in every pocket… he didn’t look like something from real life either. Joker the Phantom Thief could have walked straight out of a kaitou anime, but _he_ was real — so maybe there was some merit to those other childish dreams, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (EDIT LIKE A YEAR LATER) Hey all, since there was some interest in the comments: my Akira, with this backstory, shows up once again in a later fic of mine. Actually one I just started at the time of this writing. It's called [I've Seen Another Future, Through the Broken Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311403/chapters/35523468), so if anyone's still reading this and wants to see more — get hype I guess!

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a tumblr prompt.


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